#i thought it was pg-13?????

[habken]

Trenchcoat AU question: Since the brains piloting the fusion are still 8, do they have trouble managing and understanding teenage emotions? I have this mental image of them developing a crush or crushes and just having no idea what to do with that. Class 1A generally likes the fusion persona, but then every once in a while he acts childish and they don't know why. Then Aizawa unfuses them and it's like "this explains so much."

I think it's weird, technically the fusion is 16 and has the brain of a 16 year old but with the lived experience of two 8 year olds, so they probably do end up being immature sometimes but also there's like a year-ish between them fusing and attending ua so I feel like in that time, they've been socialized as a teen a bit more and it's not as obvious to class A that there's two 8 year olds behind the wheel.

I feel like it would affect them more coming out of the fusion and being 8 again, because now they've experienced life as a teen and some of that maturity bleeds through. They can say "fuck" now, they know what algebra is, they've read classic literature, there's no going back

[tsuchinokoroyale]

Hey there. I got a haircut.

[raisedbythetv89]

Two of the worst proposals in the history of modern media followed by the most pathetic cringe fail loser puppy dog eyes when their absolutely abysmal attempts at saying “I love and want only you” fail miserably and unfortunately for me I desire both of them carnally

bonus: they even both hit this pose after being knocked on their ass during said failed proposal attempt

[deoidesign]

Salaries $200 Utilities $150 Rent $800 Sexy little socks $3600 Insurance $150

someone who is good at accounting please help me budget this. my business is failing

(if you're confused my comic explains everything)

[jbcatboyedits]

Haven't had the time to update the assets because the launcher hates my PC but here's a summary of the last month or so of content.

(and a bonus silly one for discord emote purposes)

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

”rated tv ma - mild violence”

aw yeah

time for another episode of the gilded age

[talesfromthecrypts]

also finally got around to Lisa Frankenstein and underrated hilarious moment is in the cemetery when she goes “we can do other stuff�� when at that point, canonically, they very much HAVE

Ah yes the "back massager" that you can use other places, Lisa's "back massager".... Incredible what you can do in PG-13 movies these days

[every-yumichika]

[eclipsecrowned]

do you ever just become obsessed with the bones of a good movie hidden under a bunch of marketable tropes and executive meddling to compete w didney in children's animation or are you neurotypical --

[bakery-anon]

UMMM do you want me dead because it's working asdfghjdsk

like. he lifts you up so easily and pins you down and then has the audacity to tease you by hovering his lips an inch over yours but not quite closing the distance yet, a lopsided smile because he knows you wanna slip your fingers between the arm sleeves and his shirt and and and– (i need to be put down pls)

Hehchsjcjsjfjejcnsnf BARK BARK BARK. Sorry let me compose myself.

I have yet to infiltrate your inbox with thoughts so I will change this soon. You have been warned <33

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 Osamu Miya. Anything you want <3

You try and kiss him but he puts his hand up over your mouth to stop you. And he kisses the back of his hand. And then has the audacity to pout about it. “Hi sugar.” And his shirt has risen up a bit from lifting you and then his arm so there’s the smallest, tiniest bit of skin showing from between his shirt and his pants.

Someone needs to sedate me oml.

Instead of you slipping your hands anywhere he takes his hand that was on your waist and toys with the fabric of your shirt. And then slips just his thumb under your shirt and and —

I must stop myself. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[toasty-self-shipping]

“I wanna talk with you more you seem like a cool person!”

no you don’t because the type of stuff I be saying about my f/os would leave you like this

[orviposition]

kdj is so bisexual coded it's insane

fork found in the kitchen, anon

[morninkim]

redrew an old oc for funsies bc i wanna revive her story and world

Ruriko Ishino - JUMP Stinger

[navysealt4t]

mutuals next halloween we should all watch 9 together bc that movie traumatized 6 year old me

[danothan]

superman is gonna be late for anime school

[aparticularbandit]

Agatha Buys A Birthday Present

Summary: Cian’s birthday is coming up.  Agatha has a lot of ideas of what to get, but one thing in particular sticks out.

Agatha Harkness/The Ancient One Chapter Rating: T. Series Rating: M for adult themes, graphic sexual content, and nudity.

word count: 2164

She only saw it once, and she wasn’t supposed to see it at all.

Agatha hadn’t ever meant to go through Cian’s browser history – which, to be honest, she wasn’t really doing.  That sounds suspicious and creepy and like an invasion of privacy or like she was looking for something she shouldn’t be looking for when really she’d found a super cool recipe for something three days ago and forgot to print it out and was going through the history to try and find it – and she’d been on Cian’s laptop in the first place because hers had an infuriating sort of bug and needed to go through a lot of modification mumbo jumbo – they’d taken it to a shop to get cleaned up because she was attached to her laptop, although she’d needed to buy a new one a few months later anyway after it got knocked off of the bedside table a little too often to survive – which…really was her fault, she really shouldn’t have kept it on top of her bedside table; really she should put it in a drawer so that it can’t get knocked off, and she should have realized that after the first time she’d kicked it off during—

Point is Agatha hadn’t been looking for anything.  She’d been looking for that cake recipe.  Because Cian’s birthday was coming up, and she knew better than to try a new cake recipe day of because knowing her, she’d just fuck the whole thing up the first time.  The first several times.  And this way, Cian could try whatever it was while she was experimenting (read as: not following the recipe, because that’s no fun) and then give her that wry little smile of theirs where they lift one corner of their lips (the right, it is always the right, and she always wants to kiss them there to see if it will make them lift it higher (and sometimes they do, but mostly they just kiss her right back, which is fine enough)) because she had definitely gotten something wrong (because she still couldn’t understand why she couldn’t modify a baking recipe the same way she could modify any other recipe; it should be just fine; no, Cian, she doesn’t want to just follow the recipe when she can make it better (don’t ask how she knows hers would be better if she doesn’t know what the original actually tastes like because she never made the original)).

And then she’d seen—

Well.

Here’s the thing.  Cian’s birthday was coming up.  And, sure, Agatha could think about a lot of other things she could get for them.  She had a ton of ideas.  Great ideas! But then she’d seen that there was some sort of shopping something or other in their browser history, and she thought, well, maybe whatever that was might be a good idea.  So she’d pulled it up, not really thinking any the wiser, not thinking that Cian could possibly be embarrassed by anything she might see there.  And then she’d seen—

Well.

She’d seen it.

Agatha looked at the outfit.  Blinked a couple of times.  Cocked her head to one side.  Considered that there was no reason Cian would be thinking of getting it for themselves.  Figured it was probably just. something they’d accidentally clicked on.  Yep.

And then she’d bookmarked the recipe because inevitably she was going to get really upset with it for not turning out the way she wanted and then rip it to shreds in her frustration and then need to print out another copy.  Cian told her to remember to bookmark it this time.  She could at least do that.

~

…okay, so maybe she saw it twice, but it wasn’t because she was looking for it either time.

It was that stupid recipe again.  Which Agatha had definitely chewed to pieces and swallowed half of, like a feral toddler.  To be fair, she’d only torn it up that way because Cian had given her a look which suggested she wouldn’t do it, and she wanted to prove them wrong, and it’s not like eating paper was really that bad for her.  It just tasted horrible.  (It did not help that the paper tasted better than what she’d done with the recipe.)

At least Cian hadn’t suggested she just follow the recipe this time.  That always made her more frustrated.  Now she just felt like she was disappointing them, and maybe she should just follow the recipe, and then she could. play around with it.  That would be.  That would be fine. If she has to.

It’s for Cian, the benefits would far outweigh her not having fun, and she could at least give them a cake that tastes good while she experiments with ways to make it better—

And then she’d seen it.

Again.

That link, hidden in the bottom of Cian’s favorites.

Well, not the very bottom, but pretty close. Like it had been there a really long time.

Again, she wasn’t looking for it.  She just couldn’t find the recipe.  Which should have been at the very top but wasn’t at the very top and then was actually at the very top but had a stupid name that was about something else entirely and not super cool cake recipe for Agatha’s modification fun and actually had nothing to do with recipe or cake or even birthday, all of which would have made infinitely more sense than—

…to be honest, she doesn’t remember the title anymore.  She’d know it if she saw it.  But she was a little too distracted seeing the outfit again. Not in Cian’s browser history, where she could wave it away, but saved in their favorites.  Like something they went to visit frequently.

And this time she did visit their browser history, just to check and see how often they visited that page, and—

Well.

Uh.

Well.

It wasn’t too bad.  It’s not like she saw anything wrong with it.  She was a little concerned that Cian had visited it so often and never brought it up with her or bought it for her or anything like that, but.  She could play along with all of it.  It wasn’t like they had anything to be ashamed of.  At least. Not in her opinion, anyway.

Besides, Agatha could keep a secret as well as they could.

Which was how she ended up ordering it for her.

For them.

Their birthday was coming up, after all.

~

Which is how Agatha ended up in the bedroom she and Cian shared, in a preppy school girl outfit – all navy purple base with yellow, green, and red plaid suit jacket (with gold buttons that are half aesthetic and half actual buttons) and short, short skirt that really should serve to show off her legs (she has very nice legs.  Equally nice as Cian’s, if she’s honest with herself, but when is Agatha ever honest with herself about how she looks), except they don’t really show off her legs because there are these thigh high white socks, white as the shirt under her suit jacket, that leave barely any skin exposed, just this thin little strip, which she doesn’t get, but if this is what Cian wants, then she’ll definitely supply, even down to the shiny Mary Jane shoes with the wedge heels, which she thinks are ugly, but it’s the outfit, and Agatha is going to make sure she looks as close to that picture as possible.  She even teased her hair into those frizzy sort of curls so that they tumble just so around her shoulders.

She did her best, anyway.

The cake sits, cooling, in the kitchen.  Decorated to perfection.  The batter had tasted okay, and in all of the experimenting, this was the recipe that Cian seemed to like the best that wasn’t the original.  Agatha still feels like she’s improved it.  And if she hasn’t, then the icing certainly has because she’s actually very good at making icing.  She’s got years of practice on that.  She’s perfected icing.  She’d have perfected cake, too, if she hadn’t decided to try a new recipe for Cian’s birthday every year, but, well, this is more fun.  For her, mostly, but she thinks Cian likes all of the different cakes.

(Cian probably thinks this is to keep from thinking about her own birthday, and that’s…potentially valid.  Agatha never starts on this cake baking frenzy until after that, after their anniversary.  It’s easier to think about their anniversary than to think about everything else that happened on that day, and as long as she thinks about that and then gets to baking cake immediately after, then she doesn’t have to deal with the unhappy feelings that are…well.  That. She can avoid things.  She’s good at avoiding upsetting emotions.)

Agatha hears Cian unlock the door, hears it click shut, and strikes her pose. All indifferent, half-leaning against the edge of the mattress but mostly standing, one leg crossed over the other, one arm crossed, other hand lifted so that she can pretend to examine her nails, to flick something out from under her thumbnail.  As Cian enters, she gives them a look of disdain and says, with feigned annoyance, Took you long enough.

Or, at least, she’d planned on saying that.

But it’s impossible to really say much of anything when she sees how Cian is looking at her.  How wide their mossy green eyes are.  How completely frozen they are, as though they’ve forgotten how to breathe.  They take half of a breath in, start to step forward, hesitate.  How.  They swallow once, their eyes roaming over her, as though they can’t settle, as though they can’t focus on anything, until they force themselves to try and meet her eyes.  How did you find that.

It isn’t even a question.  Cian doesn’t seem to have the strength to question – probably because their voice would crack if they allowed themselves that light lilt of tone to make a question. They meet Agatha’s eyes ever so briefly, but then their gaze moves again, slow, hungry.

It was in your history.  In your favorites. Agatha keeps the pose because she’s afraid – no, not afraid, never afraid – of what stance she would take if she let it down, if she let herself relax.  I was looking for the recipe and—

May I? Cian asks, cutting her off before she can finish, voice so suddenly deep.  Soft.  They aren’t even trying to meet her eyes anymore, but at least their gaze isn’t moving here and there and everywhere anymore.  It’s at least focused now.  It might be angled down, but Cian’s so much taller than her that—

Of…of course, dear, Agatha says, brow furrowing. This is for your birthday.  You don’t have to—

But then Cian is there – she doesn’t think she’s ever seen them move so fast in her entire life before, which is saying something, considering everything else they’ve done – brushing one finger along the line of her jaw, lifting her chin, gaze lingering on her lips as their thumb grips her skin.  As they hold her chin, their other hand skims the exposed skin of her thigh, and Agatha forces herself to stand perfectly still as their hand moves up to cradle her bare ass.  Cian’s eyes grow dark.  Where’s your—

Not wearing any.

Cian’s thumb brushes her left ass cheek slow, steady, tracing it with their thumb nail.  Oh, my beautiful, beautiful girl.  They let out a soft sigh.  You have been so good for me, and I’m so unprepared.

Unprepared? Agatha echoes, blinking twice.

Mmhm, Cian purrs.  They touch the tip of their nose to hers, run it up and down, breath hot on her lips as they speak, I need something bigger—  They squeeze her ass, nails digging into her flesh, and Agatha gasps.  —to fill you with, pet.

Big—bigger? Agatha echoes again, gaze flicking back up from Cian’s lips, eyes widening.

Cian just nods, brushing their nose along hers again.  Can you be a good girl and wait here for me?  They step back, remove their hands from her skin, and boop her nose.  I won’t take very long.

Agatha swallows.  What do you mean by bigger—

You’ll see.  That singular corner of Cian’s lips lifts in amusement.  Then their eyes grow dark, their voice firm.  Wait here.  Don’t move.  They start to step away, to move to their drawer of toys.  And don’t take that off, my love.

Agatha’s brow furrows again.  Of course not.  You get to take it off.  That’s your—  Then she sees Cian turn with the biggest strap she thinks she has ever seen, certainly not one they have ever used before.  Her eyes grow wide with unsuppressed longing.  Oh.

Cian shuts the door behind them with a nudge of their ass.  Who said anything about taking it off?  They glance up, meet Agatha’s eyes, but don’t smile.  Turn, pet, and don’t look back.